“This isn’t the 1950s, Miss Monroe. Most engaged couples live together prior to matrimony,” Marshall replied.
“That’s all well and good, but I don’t really like the idea of living with a stranger, least of all him.”
“I feel the same way, sweetcheeks,” Barrett said.
With a roll of my eyes, I said, “Do not call me that.”
“What? I was just practicing some terms of endearment for my fiancée.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t find ‘sweetcheeks’ endearing. I find it revolting.”
“Fine then, snookums.”
Instead of reaching across the table to strangle him, I took a few deep breaths. You can do this, Addison. Just think of the one million dollars and all the brand new Jimmy Choos you can wear. “Okay, if I agree to move in with him, what happens to my apartment?”
“You’re more than welcome to keep the apartment, or you can let it go and find another either after the convention or after the election. Regardless of what you decide to do, you won’t be seeing very much of it over the next few months.”
The economical thing to do would be to just store my stuff at my brother Evan’s place in Arlington until the campaign was over. Then I would have more time to devote to finding my dream place.
Oh shit. My family.
What am I going to tell them? Although my parents were several states away, we talked at least once or twice a week. Since I hadn’t mentioned dating anyone, it was going to be a tough sell for them, and considering how close as I was to Evan, there was no way he would believe my sudden engagement. I supposed I could swear him to secrecy while also alluding to the fact that Senator Callahan knew people who could make him disappear.
As far as friends went, I really didn’t have any outside of the campaign. The friendships I’d formed when I first moved to D.C. had been because of Walt. Once we were no longer a couple, my friends vanished. I guess he had gotten custody of them in our breakup.
“Speaking of apartments, what about the fact that I live in New York and Addison lives here?” Barrett asked.
“Your father has offered the guest cottage at his estate for the two of you to stay in when you’re not on the road. As your fiancée, Addison should probably be seen leaving your apartment in New York a few times.”
“Ugh, I hate New York,” I said.
Barrett’s eyes bulged. “How can you possibly say that?”
“Because it’s the truth. It’s overcrowded and overpriced. The only redeeming quality is Broadway.”
Eyeing me with an expression of both disbelief and disgust, Barrett said, “Saying you hate New York is like saying you hate America.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, it’s not.”
“Oh hell yeah it is.”
“Maybe in your view it is, but for me, saying you hate Washington DC is way more unpatriotic.”
Marshall tapped his pen loudly on the table. “Can we focus please?”
“Sorry,” I said.
“Yeah, sorry,” Barrett replied as he ducked his head to stare at the contract.
“So we’re all good on paragraph one?”
“Yes,” Barrett and I grumbled.
Marshall nodded. “Paragraph Two: During the course of the campaign, both parties agree to abstain from any physical or emotional contact with a member of the opposite sex.”
Barrett whipped his head up so fast I thought he might get whiplash. “Hold up—I can’t see anyone else but her for nine months?”
Ouch. Although I didn’t want to admit it, that remark stung a little. I guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised that Barrett wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of monogamy with anyone, least of all me, but in the moment, it felt rather harsh.
Trying to save face, I mused, “Thanks for making me feel like a leper.”
Barrett appeared momentarily apologetic. “It has nothing to do with you personally and everything to do with my dick.”
Marshall grunted in frustration. “We’re trying to sell the image of a happy, loving couple, Barrett.”
Barrett poked the contract with his finger. “But this clause means I can’t have sex with anyone.”
“Not exactly. You and your hand can have a great time together,” I countered with a grin.
Narrowing his eyes at me, Barrett said, “I have never gone without sex for nine days, let alone nine months.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
“This is bullshit.”
“Of course you would make this only about you,” I mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“Listen up, pretty boy—being stuck with you isn’t going to be a cakewalk for me either, but I’m prepared to do it.”
“Because you’re being well compensated by my father.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“Maybe instead of thinking with your dick, you should think about your father and how this is all in the best interest of him securing the party’s nomination and being our next president?”
“I am thinking of my dad, or I never would’ve agreed to this insane idea.”
“Then stop being selfish.”
“Trust me, babe, you will not want to be around me if I go without sex. It’s not pretty.”
“Maybe you could find something more meaningful to do with your time, something that would contribute to the community.”